Barf-bag Please

Today's barfiest story:
Roy Williams 'speechless' at Hall of Fame

And has he always spoke about himself in the third person? Or only when he's creating jibberish like tarhawks?

The Worst Part About...

I've found two major problems with having my toenail hacked into:
1. I can't get pedicures every month although I'm actually paid to do this
2. Although it's 90+ degrees outside right now, I can't go to the beach for fear I'll get a nasty nail infection

Rats.

Am I Alone?

Do you ever get confused about life? Sometimes I feel like everyone else has their lives figured out...or that you're just not thinking about it as much as I do.

It's not that I want to ponder the meaning of life (and mine in particular) all the time. I just can't help but feel that if I don't think about it, then I'll wake up one day and be old, poor, single (save one pitiful cat I'll probably rescue from the throes of death), and in a job I never loved. And that scares me more than being young, poor, single, and still wondering if there will ever be a job I love. So, I sit and consider everything I should be doing to not be these things in 15 years. And I've no idea where to start.

And sometimes my confusion is almost as bad as feeling as though I'm the only one confused.

Your question comes from judge no. 7

If you were crowned Miss America, how would you spend your reign?

Well, I would have to say, there are three things that are extremely important to me that I would work for. The first thing I would do is go and speak with CMT to ensure that the next year's Miss America pageant is shown live across the United States. I find it appalling that the West Coast not only has continuously suffered from delayed taped recordings, but this past year, those hard-working West Coasters also were misled about the starting time of the pageant; some, therefore missed the entire first hour. It really is quite unfortunate and something that I feel can easily be changed with the proper awareness.

Also, I would ensure that when a young 80s teenage heartthrob passes away, every major news outlet includes this in nightly newscasts. Immediately after the 2007 pageant, it came to my attention that my childhood infatuation, Jonathon Brandis committed suicide at the young age of 27. Although the event was tragic in and of itself, I was even more horrified at the fact that it took me three and a half years to find out the truth. We as pop culture consumers must demand that media produce news stories of stars, both past and present.

Finally, I would do everything in my power to be an example of the academic brilliance required to be in the Miss America pageant. Truly a scholarship competition, I would prove that the interview portion is one of the major components to a contestant's success. When Miss Oklahoma won in 2007, I supported her success, but I knew that I could definitely improve the Miss America image. Miss America has dreams other than just growing three inches to look better in a bikini, and I would make sure that the world and America knew that I was more than just a pageant princess.

And while doing those three things, I believe my reign as Miss America would be a fruitful one.

Insert large smile here.

Parlez-Vous Useless?

One semester in 8th grade. Two years in high school. Two semesters in college. You'd think that was enough to teach someone something.

But no. After years of learning French, I know nothing. I knew my francais was rusty, but I wasn't aware of just how much until this past week. After trying to talk to a 2-year-old French-speaking child, all I could ask was "What's your name?" I racked my brain for an hour trying to remember how to ask her how old she was. I finally gave up. I never found out.

Then when a 7-person group from France came into job #2 this week, they ordered coffee, hot tea, and espresso. When they thanked me, I couldn't even recall how to say "you're welcome." Nor could I ask if they wanted to keep the check open or closed. So, I just brought it out.

But although my lack of French has me frustrated, I've also been thinking about everything else I've learned in life. How much else have I forgotten? What other things in life did I swear would be useful but have turned out to be quite useless? And what other things was I forced to learn that I would never need?

Oddly enough History of Baseball wasn't one of them. But I don't recall a whole lot from Calculus. Or The Warm Little Pond. Or Human Sexuality.

Sleep Is a Funny Beast

All day long all I could think about was coming home and crawling into bed and snuggling up before falling asleep. So, why is it that now I'm home all I want to do is check my e-mail and watch Married with Children? Geez. I'm like a kid on coke.

Two Revelations

1. I LOVE Rascal Flatts. I'd forgotten how much I loved this band until I saw them in concert this weekend. I'd seen them perform a couple of songs at a festival a couple of years ago, but this time they were the headliners and were awesome. Sitting there in the audience, I could forget about all that was on my mind. And when they played their older songs and a few covers, I was taken back to days long gone.












2. Vegas is for trash. So, I doubt this revelation is all that groundbreaking for you, but it was something that I just realized. On my fourth trip to LAS in three months, I finally saw just what Vegas was. I'd heard people in the past call Vegas a theme park for adults. That description is quite fitting because, let's be honest, theme parks don't really have the top o' the class. (And yes, I realize that I have spent many days/nights in theme parks AND Vegas...)

The shows in Vegas are nothing more than glorified peep shows (which are just down the strip from the not-so-glorified ones); the casinos, pools and hotels are brimming with sluts, smoke and sweat; and the bars pander to the wannabe wealthy. I mean, really now. Those VIP rooms aren't filled with real VIP but guys who live beyond their means and know they can only get into the club if they reserve a VIP room or cabana. (It's not the 80s anymore. Real luxury and VIP status can't be bought. If you have to buy it, that's just even more proof that you're not a VIP.)

But the sad thing is that most of the people who go to Vegas can't see that they're trash. (Me? I realize I've got some trash to me...I mean, my mom's family has quite a bit of redneck history.) They think that their money or clothes or family name keeps them from being trash. But really, they're just trashy folk with money, nice clothes or a well-recognized name.

They're All Dead

My phone. My pink Coach bag. My purple business card holder that I just made. Dead.

In a tragic series of events at lunch today, a lemonade poured into my purse, a water fell all over me, and red enchilada sauce plopped itself on my jeans and sweater. Thus, many things went wrong.

I threw away the card holder. I'm trying to dry out my bag. If my phone doesn't work by tomorrow, I'll most likely be e-mailing you asking for your digits.

A Very Sarah Jessica Parker Moment a la The Family Stone

She screams “Does nobody in this family love me?” before running out of the room.

Today I came to work hoping to avoid thinking about my personal life and the story for my class that I should be finishing. While settling in and reading the forum board for people in my industry, I was surprised to find a thread with my magazine’s title in it. There had been so many responses, that two pages of comments were now filled. Clicking on it, I saw that the original post was reaming a short FOB piece I wrote (which wasn’t bylined) that had an accompanying risqué photo. Others chimed in on their surprise at my magazine for running it, but eventually it led to a ream into the huge feature I’d written in that issue (yes, the one on Vietnamese techs that I’d been excited about and had spent much time researching).

OK, I knew the feature would not be received well by all in the industry (that was part of the motivation for writing it), but really now. There was no need for the thread to eventually become a tear-into the writer topic.

I don’t regret writing it. I’m glad I did it. But I am saddened that perceptions of race and nationality control so much of people’s thinking. “Xenophobia is rampant,” one tech told me (in thanking me over the phone last week for writing it). Yes. It is. But it sucks that other people’s fear of the unknown and unfamiliar makes me feel like poop.

It is days like today that I wish I would marry some stupid chump for his money, write quietly in a journal that nobody ever sees, sit around half the day watching CMT and take runs along the beach.

Instead though, I scream into the void of this blog, “Does nobody in this world love me?” before walking out to figure out my place in this world.

Beauty Is in the Eye of the Photo

Yesterday was not spent watching the Super Bowl. Instead I watched gaggles of gals running around, loading themselves up on hair, makeup and nail products. I normally wouldn’t do this, but I attended my first industry trade show this weekend.

One thing that surprised me throughout the weekend was finding out what the people looked like. I’m not just talking about the stylists and techs walking around the showroom floor. I was blown away by everyone. Many look nothing like what I’d imagined. Some were younger, perkier and fresher-faced than I expected, but there were others I thought I knew what they looked like. But I didn’t. I’ve realized quickly that in the beauty industry, most people in the industry have publicity shots…that look nothing like them.

But this isn’t JUST in the beauty industry. When I attended a “meet the teachers” event through mediabistro.com, I was completely stunned when I saw many of the instructors. Their “instructor” photo face was nothing like their real-life face.

And friendster…myspace? They’re both a playground of photo-frenzy people, who put up their “best” photo…which was shot at some weird angle and really looks nothing like the person.

It seems to me that people know this when choosing photos that represent them. Is it that people are so self-conscious they think the real them won’t attract buyers or students or friends from the past? Or is it others telling them, “you would look great like this?” Or is it the fact that maybe they did look like that at one point…but age and gravity took hold, and said person is too ashamed to take a new photo?

Whatever the reason, this saddens me. I think many of these people are beautiful in their own way and how they are…and their confidence to show that would only make them more attractive.

Alas. I realize my myspace photo is nearly two years old (but was put up less than two weeks ago)…my friendster photo is nearly 10 years old…and my professional writing Web site features photos that are really jokes. I tell myself I did that so others wouldn't see glam Jayna, expect that, then be disappointed. But maybe that whole train of thought is just as bad as putting up a glam Jayna picture.

Clemency

n. a: disposition to be merciful and esp. to moderate the severity of punishment due b: an act of instance of leniency
Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition 2001

I honestly don't know exactly how I feel about the death penalty. I'm probably 95% against it, but my personal fears wins about 5% of a favor for it.

However, 100% of me is against the execution that will be carried out in a little over two hours. Stanley "Tookie" Williams allegedly commited the crimes for which he will die before I was even born. I have no idea what South Central LA was like back then. I know what it's like now, though, and the fact that he was a founder of a gang does not make me think less of him as a person.

I do think better of him for what he has done during my lifetime. Nobody has disputed his sincerity in ending his gang life and keeping kids from joining gangs. His life has become an iconic one, and his change is one that should be celebrated. The fact that a punishment that was dealt out nearly 25 years ago is carried out tonight seems to be unjust. Things change. People change. (How much have you changed since 1981?) But the death penalty doesn't allow for it.

And as the execution draws near, the fact that clemency was not granted in this case has truly made me consider my views on the death penalty. Until the last few years I was pretty much indifferent. But as I become more cold and less caring in my personal life, I find myself becoming more compassionate and merciful in my political views.

No matter how I feel, though, the execution will be carried out, and sometime late tomorrow morning, one Californian will try to go to sleep as he remembers he just killed a man.

Help Wanted

University of Missouri Head Basketball Coach
Columbia, MO

Searching for a competent D-I men's coach who can beat schools named after the first president of the Republic of Texas and fill an arena that was once named for a Southern California briber who no longer has a college degree. Job will be effective at the close of this season.

Perks:
-you will be loved by many a Tiger faithful
-you have a brand new arena at your disposal
-many of the players you will inherit were in their class' top 100
-some of the others are set to inherit about $100 million (i.e. there's lots of money to be donated if you play your cards right)
-you will likely be overpayed for your work (even with no head coaching experience and little improvements, you could earn one of the top five salaries of NCAA men's basketball head coaches)

Requirements:
-you must be able to work for one season with a program on probation and with fewer scholarships than the norm (the predecessor wasn't quite knowledgable of NCAA regulations -- despite having recruited previously and receiving a JD from Duke)
-you will read the NCAA regulations and follow them
-you will take the team to the NCAA tournament every year -- whether with the team you inherit or the ones you will recruit
-if, despite hard work and team play, you do not make it to the NCAA tournament, you will not lose in the first round of the NIT
-you will not recruit players who a) rape 13-year-old girls b) smoke weed in their dorm rooms with the university's MSA vice president present c) choke their girlfriends when said girlfriends refuse to watch Roots
-you will avoid rumors that you use cocaine and invite players over for cocktail parties
-you will not pretend to not know what is going on with your program (i.e. know how recruits are being recruited, know how players obtain "pass codes" for athletic program phones)
-you must care more about the appearance of the basketball program than your hair (we must never have to have a conversation with you regarding the length of your hair and professional appearance)
-you will wear black and gold as your basic colors -- keep your previous school's colors off your back while you are on the court

If this position does not quite meet your employment needs, please keep checking back. We hope to be looking for a new Athletic Director in the next few years.

daylight-saving time

I really don't understand the purpose of this. I think I remember reading once that it started as a way for school kids to get to school in the mornings, and daylight-saving time provided ample time for them to walk to school in the light.

But, really, now. I don't know any kids who walk five miles to school anymore. It's useless, and I think people want to keep it just to remember when to check the batteries in their smoke alarms. And the AP and the rest of the world can't agree on punctuation, grammar, and capitalization of it. So, maybe I should be like parts of Indiana and refuse to observe it.

Hallowhoreen

Halloween may actually be my least favorite holiday. At least with Memorial Day, you get a day off work. President's Day? It's actually like three holidays rolled up into one. Halloween, though, brings me absolutely no joy as adult. Because as an adult, females use it as an excuse to whore themselves out. It is the sluttiest day of the year, and I have to witness it.

The sluttiest I ever was for Halloween was the year I went as a punk rocker. I wore my black leotard, spray glittered my hair, yanked my strands into a side ponytail, and then placed my leg-warmered legs into hightops. Granted I had a good time that year. But I was in third grade, and most of my trick-or-treating happened at the Baptist Home (a retirement complex), where I got one piece of candy for every formaldehyde-smelling door I knocked on.

But as adults, guys dress up in whatever they want for the holiday, but the majority of girls try to pick out a costume that is cleavalicious and show as much leg as possible. Now, I'm not saying that showing skin is necessarily a bad thing (those who knew me in college witnessed quite a few Hollister tiny skirts), but I hate how these wanna-be hoochies turn a holiday into a time of whoring. If girls want to draw attention to their bodies, there are 364 more days of the year to do this, but Halloween is supposed to be a time to honor the dead and the spirits -- you're supposed to dress up like ghouls and goblins, or at least something funny like Canteen Boy.

Bloodsuckers

Normally, I like scalpers. I think they serve a purpose in our supply/demand society, and often they help people go to games that normally wouldn't be able to go to the games or get those seats. Having limits on scalping (such as NY) is a great way for ticket-savvy folks to cash in on others' desires without keeping tickets only in the hands of the connected or very rich.

But these scalpers in SoCal stink. They go online and call the ticket offices and buy massive amounts -- keeping the honest Joes and Janes from getting them. Then they sell them for massive amounts on Craigslist. Or bleed us dry on eBay. Man, I'm poor. But I really want to go to the game in SD on Saturday.

Scalpers suck.

Read, People!!!

Don't watch TV! I know it's much easier for me to say this considering we still don't have cable, but people, really, if you don't like the quality of broadcast news, DON'T WATCH IT!

Today during church, the minister made a comment about how an idiot journalist asked someone basically floating on a piece of driftwood, "Are you effected by this?" The minister went on to ask the (as-if-he-were-there journalist) "Where did you go to school?" I wanted to yell out, "USC!!!" just to mess with the rest of the ultra-Trojan-fan congregation.

Alas, we all-knowing J-School folk all know that a MU grad would NEVER ask such a silly question. However, my frustration was not just with the journalist. Obviously it's a dumb question, but I also wanted to tell my minister how ignorant he was by staying tuned to watch the news program. It is because people continue to get their news from shameful, stupid broadcasters that people don't like or trust media (yes, I know media is plural--I apologize for saying "media is" in a previous post . . . ). Now, not all broadcasters are bad reporters, but all in all broadcast news is not the most reliable source of news information. Nearly every educated person in America knows that broadcast journalists get their jobs based not only on their reporting skills but also on their haircuts, their accents (or lack thereof), their weight, their smile, etc. And just because Jane Smiley has a great bob and is a size 3 and is under 40 years old does NOT automatically make her the best disseminator of news. Yet, American idiots still choose her as the source of their news. Now, I know that there are great broadcast reporters out there--I do believe you can be beautiful and smart or talented, but because you are beautiful does not mean that you are smart or talented.

However, if being overweight and ugly makes you a great reporter, print journalists are the best there are out there! The most print editors care about as far as looks go is, "Can you fit inside a car? Great! You're in!" Really, though . . . print journalists are a dying breed thanks to current Western society, and we must save them! (I'll be taking donations for the overweight, mulleted journalists at the end of this blog)

There is an art to print reporting that is getting lost every day. Print is becoming all about service and old-people fodder. Our generation, the one raised as an ADD nation on Sesame Street, keeps turning to the 11 o'clock news as our only source. If you want, keep watching the 11 o'clock news, people, but READ as well. And don't just read it and take it as fact. Question it, ponder it, analyze it, analyze the writer--we print journalists LIKE when you do that to our work (don't really get that same feeling from the broadcast breed--have any of you mafioso noticed how few times the broadcast people chime into the ethics and reflection conversations on the mafia lists???). But just don't spend your time complaining about how much of an idiot a journalist is--you're the bigger idiot by continuing to get your news from that journalist and its media outlet.

If people would stop complaining about journalists and turn to multiple sources (i.e. many TV channels, newspapers, the Internet, magazines, etc.), they would have far less to complain about. You have choices of where you get the news, people. Not only is there freedom of the press, but there is more than one press. It's up to you to find the best ones. (Also, please let them know that I'm looking for a job . . . )

What's Katrina's Problem?

Although I've been doing well without television, I think the main drawback is the fact that I'm without constant video updates of the devastation of New Orleans. However, from what I'm reading, that could also be a good thing. I've been using my trusty Yahoo! news coverage to figure out what is going on. In times of a massive amount of available news on one topic, I've always found that print journalism does a far better job.

I must say that when I first started hearing the reports of Katrina's impact on New Orleans I was a little annoyed. "These people had been ordered to evacuate; it's their own fault for staying." Now me, being the heartless-biznatch I was, I've had to re-evaluate my thoughts. From a tourists' and outsiders' perspective New Orleans is often viewed as a city of slothenly mayhem. Alcohol and sex for drunk white people seems to be what it is best known for. But, like most cities in the U.S. there are the real people of the city. Those who live there. That is who I forgot about as I heard the first reports of devastation in New Orleans. The people who stayed--those were the people who couldn't leave. Money and means of transportation are not widely available to all. Nor is there always another place to go. And when you've got little, the prospect of leaving that behind is terrifying. So, there were people who had to stay. And I had forgotten about them.

And the government seemed to as well before this happened. Its previous actions/inactions and now, reactions, are honestly quite disturbing. Apparently for decades the government knew that the levees along the gulf coast were inadequate. They calculated cost-effectiveness, and well, money and the human lives of those there weren't important enough to cause it to repair them to withstand a natural disaster. (I also should point out that this has been a concern through reigns of both major political parties) Then there is the fact that there are STILL thousands of people without food, water, shelter--basic necessities. It's not like they're on some remote island in the middle of the Pacific. They are in freaking New Orleans. There are buses and helicopters able to come in. Mass evacuation is possible. But hey, "let's suspend them because we think someone shot at one of the helicopters!" Yes, shooting at rescuers is not good, but what can be expected (now expect a bit of more anti-racist rhetoric)?

New Orleans is a city that is over 65% African-American. According to one media report, whites there make nearly twice what blacks make. Thus, it's easy to see why we see fewer whites on the pictures--they had more of a financial means to leave the city beforehand. And those who are left behind . . . after working in at least two different ghettoes of the U.S. it's easy to see why these poor minority groups are upset with the rescue workers. We see poor blacks clinging to their children and belongings and white 20-something-year-old males covered in black uniforms holding machine guns standing nearby. Surprise, surprise but law enforcement officials are not highly regarded in poor communities. In L.A. I have had to sit back while the local law enforcement tried to "bring order" to local high schools. I have had kids tell me how they were arrested for skateboarding where an officer asked them not to. Granted, neither of these things should have happened, but in poor minority communities, officers (who are generally on a bit of a power trip) react far differently than they would in a white, middle-class community. And so, now in a place like New Orleans there is "lawlessness" where the residents wanted immediate relief from their suffering, and they're bitter they didn't get it. After a lifetime of slow-brewing poverty, is it wrong to expect that when their poverty is demolished into nothing they are upset? No. Is it wrong for me to assume that if a natural disaster hit someplace like Maine (which is I'm assuming majority white), the residents would have been quickly evacuated and cared for? (one of the few-publicized stories of the tsunami was the fact that there was an immediate mass exodus of the white tourists and ex-pats in the South Pacific while rescue workers left behind little for the non-white locals). Just get the National Guard in there and help them. Even if they're shooting. Not everyone wanted the National Guard in Iraq, but the Guard still went there to "save" people. But if the Guard can't even restore enough order in New Orleans to get rescue workers in, I wonder just how well they're doing in those overseas missions . . .

Then, there is the president's comments quoted from the AP article . . . "I think there ought to be zero tolerance of people breaking the law during an emergency such as this — whether it be looting, or price gouging at the gasoline pump, or taking advantage of charitable giving or insurance fraud," Bush said. "And I've made that clear to our attorney general. The citizens ought to be working together." Yes, Mr. Bush, I agree that the people at the top shouldn't be taking advantage of those who are suffering in the South. I also agree that taking someone else's valuables isn't acceptable either. But damn that woman who looted diapers for her baby. You should really fine her along with the pump peddlers charging $5.00 a gallon. Zero tolerance? Heck, let's put her in prison! Death penalty, anyone?

And speaking of looting, media is now in a tizzy evaluating itself. Why is it that the AP commented on two different pictures--both with victims carrying away food, and according to captions, the black person had been "looting" and the white people had "found" the food? Then, there are those journalists lamenting whether the term "looting" is in and of itself racist. I don't necessarily agree with that, but I do believe it is high time media take a step back to examine why certain words are used to describe the conditions or actions of people of different races.

Racism aside, there are few that will argue that not enough is being done, and the reaction is not quick enough; I don't think that will be changing any time soon, sadly enough.

I will leave you with a comment in the AP by Terry Ebbert, head of New Orlean's city emergency operations. "This is a national emergency. This is a national disgrace," he said. "FEMA has been here three days, yet there is no command and control. We can send massive amounts of aid to tsunami victims, but we can't bail out the city of New Orleans."

But don't worry, everyone's biggest fears were eased today. The New Orleans Saints announced their season will go on elsewhere.

Advice on Making New Friends

How to make new friends:
1. Smile and/or say "hello"
2. Introduce yourself
3. Participate in small talk

I realize that the internet changes many of our social norms; however, making friends is quite the same. You don't just walk up to a stranger and ask to be his/her friend. Why do people on mySpace and Hi5 that I have never met, insist on requesting me as their friend? Hello? At least send a message first and introduce yourself. It may or may not get you to "friend list" status, but witty banter never hurt anyone.

If only I could delete real-life people's lame attempts at friendship just as easily . . .

Denial Sounds So Much Better

After joking with friends and colleagues for the past four weeks that I'm "unemployed," I have decided to start saying I'm a "full-time freelancer," instead. It's not a complete lie. I am freelance writing, and I'm making some money doing it, so that is what my new occupation is as of right now. See, if I say that, then I don't have to launch into a 15-minute monologue of what "my career" is when people ask what I "do." Wow. I'm really going overboard with the quotation marks. I'll try to hold back.

However, I'm beginning to get very antsy as my return to LA is only two-and-a-half weeks away, and I don't have a job to come home to. In my perfect little world, I would have secured a job two weeks ago. My world isn't perfect, however. With each passing day, I find myself getting a bit more depressed and stressed out. My acne is going haywire. I flipped out on a kid yesterday and had to calm myself with two margaritas (it was 2-for-1). I have been sleeping way too much this past week. But I can't leave my apartment--much has to be done with my new "full-time job."

And this whole finding a staff job bit has been a terrible headache for many reasons. I can't figure out why I'm coming back to LA. I find myself convincing at least one person a day why it's best for me to go back. LA is not the place for work in publishing. I don't like the city. My friends here tell me they want me to stay, and they all make an effort to be with each other and me at least once a week--none of the LA crap where you see someone once a month. Nobody here understands why I'm going back. I'm not sure I do, either. The job market for me in LA is sparse, to say the least. I find myself analyzing every possible opening, and I'm usually not too eager to take the openings there are. I want a job where I will feel the same worthiness I did at the end of a good teaching day. I want a job where I agree with all parts of the magazine's content. Where will I find a job like that in LA? Where will I find a place that will hire me to write and edit? Hell, I can't even get half of my friends to read my blog--why would any publisher in his/her right mind want to hire me to edit for an audience of thousands? By the way: if you're reading this, thank you. You make me feel loved. I know I'm being self-loathing and a bit of a cry baby (and please don't give me your sympathy or say "it will all work out") , but I don't think I can go another day without at least SOME kind of response to one of my resumes. (OK, so I'm overdramatic now, too)

So, this is why I'm in denial. When I think about my actual job situation (and lack thereof), I become angry, sad, annoyed, disillusioned and bitter. Instead of being all those things, I'd rather say I'm a freelance writer. It definitely sounds better to me.

What Guys are Looking for

If only I had a dollar for every time someone told me, "You're what every guy is looking for!" Like many of my gal pals have in the past, a college chum exclaimed this yesterday. A few guy friends have told me this as well. However, I'm convinced that my qualities are what guys say they're looking for, but they truly don't want.

My girls seem to believe that my independence is what would make me desirable. Guys don't want to be smothered, they say. Ah, but I think they secretly want to be coddled and smothered. The fact that I care more about my life, my career (I'll have one soon, OK!) and me more than I do for them is not what they want. They want someone who puts them on a pedestal and never forgets about them. They want to be first in our lives. So, independence=undesirable.

The other quality that others seem to think will attract guys is my love of sports. After playing basketball one day, I had drinks with my roommate and her guy friend who refuses to understand my lack of long-term relationships. When I talked about my day's events and the fact that I was bored and just wanted to go throw a football around at the beach, he tried to tell me, "There are a million guys who are saying, I wish I had a cool girl to be with who just wanted to do stuff like throwing around a football." This is a lie. Guys do not want these types of girls. That is what their guy friends are for. They would much rather spend their time tackling each other and tossing around the football to the dudes than playing it with a girl. They like to play sports with girls, so they can show off. They do not want a girl who really likes sports. They want a girl who giggles at their own lack of athletic prowess, needs help with it and oohs and aahs over their skills. That's who they want to throw the football around with.

So, just what are the worth-it guys looking for? That was a question four girls pondered in TriBeca last night. Just as important, what am I looking for? I can't answer that, either.